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Matthew Thurman Poem
Rain drops look like heartbeats
Broken in two, melting away candle
Wax into the blue
My teeth chatter because of the cold
The ancient age of old
Has made me stand upon two feet
In one accord, singing to this beat,
One last breath shall be the very first
Kiss that put in his this hearse,
When she felt sweet sorrows stale
And made the prison of my heart bail.
I thought about these gifts and promises
That she made on a piece of paper with no list
And it died earlier on this way and that
The skinny takes away the bone and its fat
It was a deception of faces in the rain
A smile through deep pain
Inside was intercession
To beat this tiger’s aggression
It made me learn something new everyday
To learn this lesson,
That fact that she wouldn’t stay,
I thought about what came next,
Then what happened was what
Came from beneath the ocean waves that had me sore vexed
Running over in my cup, was the heart, out of all the blood.
It started raining from above the ceiling
Cracks of my heart peeling,
Putting away furniture and dress’s
Speaking to a room of noise and mess’s
Voices disguised my male and female
Dish’s, draining away life
That would make harmony come into one flesh.
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
There was a time when we stuck our faces
In the sands, holding hands, wondering would someone taste this?
If I ever thought about what clues to give you, deep down in the blue
Both skies wouldn’t exist
This poem would be a mist
But if we looked outside from under the ground
And would listen to soft spoken voices
Without a sound
Then we would finally see
How much life would mean to me
The reality isn’t real
If you make it about how you feel
This this what would kill
The mind
And destroy the hearts design
If you speak on love then uncover the darkness
And let the light come in or tear away the mess
And let the love grow its fruit from the tree
From you to me
And then we will run out from it all
Into a slow eternity
This is a fact from the source
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2013
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Matthew Thurman Poem
I skipped over rocks without socks
And I walked on doors without floors
I went with money and came out bankrupt,
I spent time in jail without any cents
And forgot about how she came and went
It was so far away and near
Long whispers that she couldn’t hear
It was always about love not an idea
Not an account number
To sum up a poet blunder
I thought about how I could sit back
And wonder?
On how to forget so quickly
She didn’t even miss me
She became Miss America in my
Her, something to die
For somewhere if I could find a place to cry
I wouldn’t drink so much water
Drowning in my sorrow at the alter
What do poets know?
About how linguistics grow?
Is money the sum total?
That is not the way to go
I thought it was the morning when she came in
Now it’s as black as sin
This is a story of a pregnant poet
That died foe seeds to sow it
I took a candle in my eye
And watched the match’s get lit
And then tears started to cry
Only when I went to the funeral I started to die
When I went to the sky there was air in my pocket
Rapped around my heart are her chain and a locket
She punched holes in paper with black hearts
And I discovered the cold pain of hieroglyphics and the arts
She painted souls red
Laying on the grass called a bed
Dancing on my idol soul
Where her sheep where led
Filling my tears with a bowl
Because there isn’t enough room
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
I found a penny
Even though it was worthless
It is worth more than you know
When you add up the digits and find
The sum you find that love cannot be hidden
In darkness, but the true light reveals what
True love can always display, a type
Of character around the hour, hours that
Turn into days, days that turn into months, roses
That shed blood when it’s cold and loneliness still
Besieges me so well when its waters spring up I go down
Into the heavens and lift up this rock, to trample on serpents.
Blood thirsty are these creatures, but I am thirsty for love
And vengeance, to take back a stolen heart, that breaths
New life into dead things and dead things that blow
Dead air away from ocean shores beneath me.
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
Fatherless homes, with children begging
And in need
Consumed with to much greed
The lies and the factions of this deceitful
Death defying, acrobats and sports
Of different flavors and all kinds of forts
Cannot uphold the soul which he has given away
Into the moonlights day
He thought it was today
But it turned into night
Yesterday came
As it was always the same
Death took his ears away
And played a trick on him
But it wasn’t a trick
Turned away to fast
To make eternity last
This magician is a fool!
Using this man like he was a tool
But then again
You have sin and then
Grace abounds
In the place of these clowns!
This isn’t a circus
If you must
Know that the things that are spoken
Cannot be broken
The words written in red teach you
How to be the man
That can reach you
This I hope you can understand
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
Rearranged and dead
I never remembered anything you said
I thought about the timing around the clock
And about and to make a block of the sun
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
How much do you know about the mind?
Do you know what it takes?
The maker and his design?
Fishing out all of the lakes
It works a lot slower that what I had thought
a worthless price from what I had brought
this is the time to remember
from one cold December
drifting away through rockets and arrows
in sweet dreams tasting the sparrows
when I dream about things unseen
they make me want to lie down in a dream
so that I can finally see
what is happening to me?
inside this hope filled joy of mine
is that such a crime?
If I didn’t take anything
When I would whistle and sing
Would that make me so bad to say the least?
To kill this beast
Would make the remedy
Become the number one cure
In faith to endure, with the mind does it cease to exist?
From a wave to a mist
A thought from strange humans walking through seas
Staring back at you just like water, but it’s not called water
Down in front
My mother gave me
A key
To drain the hearts of lost men
Daniel in the lions den
This side of town is not big for the both of us
But if we fight, we must.
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
There is a realm of consciousness
That occurs daily
This is something that tends to be relentless
, but if so maybe
If I would cry twice
My God from heaven will
Offer his hand
Strapped to a rubber band
There is no way out of death
Except through execution
And anamoyous tips
Kissing words with no lips
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
Blond strokes fill the mad heart
With creative ways of thinking, other than art
When I spoke of literature and finding new ways
To observe these foul days
I never knew you until
I thought about the windowsill
Then of course with a leap of faith, I died
When the things of life get away from, wind tunnel emotions
Rivers without oceans, nothing is the same, it’s just the same
Nobody at all is the blame
It’s just that
When the old year’s get fat
You run out of things to say to a woman
But you know where it’s at
Running out of time is exhausting and words fly
To high far above the floor
And things get twisted out of context
When the mind seems vexed
She turns into her
Then the night turns into a blur
I thought she said she loved a loved, like a kiss
Underneath the sun x-rays, that is when we miss
Something fulfilling and life threatening
This I find very upsetting
Because I get an opportunity to talk
But get the door closed in my face
Right along with this long walk
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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Matthew Thurman Poem
Twelve written pieces of paper, wrote with art
From the very beginning, to the start
I thought of every word
But it was nothing that I have ever heard
Just like poetry.
Copyright © Matthew Thurman | Year Posted 2012
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